Starving

satishverma

The who was
inside you.
I want to discover,
a foam-born deity,
killing the moon.

You destroyed
me in the poems.
I cannot weave the
moonlight on the
jessamines.

Can you send
a message to Mars?
It is too crowded on
the earth. There was
no room for the muse.

  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: April 10th, 2022 19:55
  • Category: Nature
  • Views: 14
  • Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
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Comments +

Comments1

  • L. B. Mek

    there's, room enough to blossom
    these poetic words..
    unease, in our minds
    makes us feel crowded, while alone
    in our own bedrooms..
    sometimes, we just have
    to accept, try
    to strive for better
    and let that be enough..
    thanks for sharing, Guru



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